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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Stark Munro Letters"

Most things on this earth,
from a woman's beauty to the taste of a nectarine, seem
to be the various baits with which Nature lures her silly
gudgeons. They shall eat, they shall propagate, and for
the sake of pleasing themselves they shall hurry
down the road which has been laid out for them. But
there lurks no bribe in the smell and beauty of the
flower. It's charm has no ulterior motive.
Well, I sat down there and brooded. In my heart I
did not believe that Cullingworth had taken alarm at so
trifling a decrease. That could not have been his real
reason for driving me from the practice. He had found me
in the way in his domestic life, no doubt, and he had
devised this excuse for getting rid of me. Whatever the
reason was, it was sufficiently plain that all my hopes
of building up a surgical practice, which should keep
parallel with his medical one, were for ever at an end.
On the whole, bearing in mind my mother's opposition, and
the continual janglings which we had had during the last
few weeks, I was not very sorry. On the contrary, a
sudden curious little thrill of happiness took me
somewhere about the back of the midriff, and, as a drift
of rooks passed cawing over my head, I began cawing also
in the overflow of my spirits.
And then as I walked back I considered how far I
could avail myself of this money from Cullingworth. It
was not much, but it would be madness to start
without it, for I had sent home the little which I had
saved at Horton's.


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